


Will you wait for me?

by chibinocho



Category: Society of Gentlemen - K. J. Charles
Genre: Character Death, Fluff, Found Family, Growing Old Together, I'm Sorry, Introspection, Love, M/M, Older Characters, Sad and Happy, happy-not-happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinocho/pseuds/chibinocho
Summary: The final moments of Lord Richard Vane and David Cyprian has one pressing concern.
Relationships: David Cyprian/Richard Vane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Will you wait for me?

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after I read Gilded Cage (which is set nearly a century after the Society of Gentlemen series) and gleefully finding out that one of my favourite couples lived to a ripe old age.  
> However it is also a self-indulgent death-fic so I am sorry about that ... but at the same time you know Richard would no go onto the afterlife without a valet ...

The servants had left only the gas lamp burning in the corner of the bedroom and for that David was grateful. He needed the safety of shadows in this room so the golden light of the sunset wouldn’t show the worry and despair on his face. He moved slowly to the large bay window with a view over the darkening parkland of Arrandene and pulled the velvet drapes closed with a single pull. He loved that window, had sat with Richard here many times in various states of dress and undress, watching sunsets together. 

At the thought of Richard there was a rustle from the bed and David moved back to take his position on the comfortable armchair that the servants had helpfully positioned next to the bed. He had left one of the curtains pulled back so that Richard could see the windows and David could sit beside him like he was doing now. David settled back against the velvet plush and took up his vigil with Richard's cool hand within his own.

"David?" The voice was low, cracked and tired but David could still discern that loving tone that made him feel so very warm.

"I'm still here, my dear, my Richard. I always will be." 

Richard's indigo eyes flickered open but it was clear it was an effort to do so. David's heart ached to see it. He didn't like to see his strong lover this way, weakened and fading by the hour. Richard had always been such a powerful force in both stature and personality therefore thinking that this would all come to an end had become a strange and uncomfortable thought.

But end it would and it would probably be tonight.

Richard seemed to sense his lover’s sudden growing melancholy. His large - still beautifully cared for - hands squeezed his own and he smiled.

"Ah David, don’t feel this way. We have managed so much together. We have had fifty three years." Richard's voice was slightly stronger now, still with its deep mellifluous tones. "Who would have guessed we would have been given so much time?"

David smiled in agreement. It was truly a blessing to have had so long. Richard was ninety now and David was not far behind at eighty-seven. Far healthier men than themselves barely made it past half their ages. And fifty three of those well-lived years had been well filled together, building a happy home, a contented life and a family of sorts. It had been a full and happy life and David wouldn't have traded it for the whole world.

"I only wish we could have another fifty-three." He said softly, running his thumb over the top of Richard’s hand in the way he always did when they lay together. "Even if just to return to Italy with you again." 

Richard managed a further smile at the memories of that trip and tried to take in a breath that was all too shallow. He was propped up comfortably on mounds of pillows on the bed - less pressure on his heart so said the doctor, who shares Richard’s opinion that they should not try any treatments, just ensure he was painless as possible. He had also been covered with one of the padded silk Oriental quilts they had brought back from that very Italy trip so long ago. David loved that particular quilt: all reds, coppers and golds with patterns and eastern mythical creatures all picked out in exquisite silk embroidery. He had chosen it himself at Richard’s insistence - telling him quite forcefully to hang the expense - and Richard’s clear delight in his choice had left him feeling treasured in a whole new way, as if that was even possible. And, when the quilt had been delivered to their rented apartments, Richard had immediately had it laid out on the floor to admire it, praising the workmanship before the merchant. He had then dismissed them all and removed David’s clothes as if he was unwrapping a far more precious gift than a silk quilt, lying David down amongst the red and golds and spent much of the afternoon tenderly but fiercely making love to him until they had both passed out exhausted, gloriously nude and sweat-shiny in the shaft of a single sunbeam.

Richard sighed, as if also remembering that day.

“Do you feel any pain, my dear?” asked David. The doctor had left a bottle of laudanum if it should be needed and David didn’t really want to use it but if Richard was in pain then he would do anything to ease it.

“No, no. No pain at all. Surprisingly really. I just feel very tired.” he took another breath. “Lie next to me, David. Don’t leave me alone.”

David immediately did so, climbing up onto the great bed to lie beside his lover, not caring if they were disturbed. It had taken so long for them to stop seeing their meetings as taking risks, avoiding any prying eyes and fall into this easy intimacy. However, the household staff at Arrandene were extremely well-paid for their services and very well provided for with a key part of that generous package and loyalty was a complete blind eye to the casual intimacies between Lord Richard Vane and his valet. Cyprian had spent a significant amount of time vetting, checking and establishing a household staff that were completely devoted to keeping their benevolent master’s flawless reputation intact. Just as Richard had made sure that the entire staff of Arrandene would continue to protect them even after he had gone.

David often wondered if Dickie Vane - nephew and soon-to-be-inheritor of Richard’s estates - realised exactly what the conditions of Richard’s will actually was and actually read the codicils and conditions attached to it. The younger son of Philip had been chafing against the bit for years waiting for Richard to die so he could inherit Richard’s fortune and the great house of Arrandene, even going so far as to publicly insult his uncle for ‘living so damned long’ - a slight which had left David bubbling with anger for days and plotting various methods of revenge, until Richard had calmed him. without malice Richard had explained that Master Dickie was going to get a fair shock when he made the discovery that a large part of Richard’s substantial fortune had already been dealt with and assigned. Richard had made sure that he was generously pensioning off all the staff of his estates; that Cricklade village church had funds to draw on; that there was a substantial amount put in trust for his younger great-nephew James - who had spent much of his childhood in their household as the overlooked younger son - and finally an even more substantial provision for David to live out the rest of his days in comfort with not an awful lot left over. Richard had been insistent that these plans were put into place and David had wholeheartedly approved, teasing Richard that his valet's deviousness had clearly rubbed off on him.

David pressed himself more fully against Richard now, to feel his last vestiges of strength. The tall, muscular body was thinner, much of bulk having ebbed away over the last few months but he was still a handsome man for his age and wore it well. His patrician features had softened more with deep lines and his dark curls were grey and white but still thick and full. David knew himself to have aged just as much. He was as slender as a larch tree now, with even more prominent cheekbones, winkles etching deep lines into his face and his once vibrant red hair had faded completely, past a pale washed copper and now fully into white, even whiter than when it was once thickly powdered, which David found more than ironic.

And all through their lives Richard had loved his hair whatever colour it had been: letting it run through his hands, burying his face in it to kiss it hungrily and letting it wrap around his fingers and hands. He was stroking it even now, cool fingers carding through the thick white strands and David wanted to purr like a cat against it. No matter how old they became, Richard always knew just the right way to caress him, to show that David Cyprian was truly loved. The thought of being without that lanced through his heart like a shard of ice.

“Don’t leave me, Richard.” he said, not realising he had spoken aloud until Richard’s fingers froze.

“You know I don’t want to.” he said, resting his hand against David's cheek and drawing him in for a kiss. His lips were still so wonderfully warm. “My beautiful flame, if I could give you another ninety years of my life I would in a second but we both knew at some point it would end. It has ended for so many others and so it finally must for us too. We cannot go on forever.”

Richard was right. In a queer twist of fate, the very man who had given his name to the Ricardians had turned out to be the last one standing amongst them, with the passing away of the kindly Harry Vane - once the youngest of them - only last year. Over the years, both David and Richard had solemnly stood together at the deathbeds and funerals of every single one of the other Ricardians, consoling broken-hearted partners, comforting devastated friends, offering a safe berth for the grieving and trying to keep the thin spiderweb of their curious family together even as holes were ripped through it. And all the time waiting for their own time to run out, which never seemed to.

Until now. 

“I wouldn’t change anything, David.” said Richard suddenly. “I want you to know that. Even the very worst times. I wouldn’t change anything, because to change any of it would mean you not being here beside me now.”

David swallowed but gave a sly grin to break the melancholy mood.

“Oh I don’t know. The time we broke the bed at Tarlton March when Lord and Lady Cirencester were expecting us below I wouldn’t mind changing.”

Richard tried to laugh but it provoked a shuddering coughing breath. David immediately went up on one elbow and reached for the glass at the bedside. He encouraged Richard to drink slowly and then sank back down into the bed next to him as Richard gathered his breath and huffed again with laughter.

“Good Christ yes, that awful bed. I should never have let you take me like that, I had the bruises for weeks.” he said chuckling at the memory. “That was when Eustacia fully guessed, you know. She told me.”

Kind and wonderful Eustacia. Until the day Philip - the most-esteemed Marquess of Cirencester - had died, he had had no clue that the secret love of Richard’s life had been his own valet but Lady Cirencester had guessed long before and known for many years. She had refrained from saying anything due to Philip’s position and for Richard's own protection. And then quite suddenly, she had asked him outright some weeks after Philip's funeral - no longer wanting any secrets between them - and Richard had felt like a naughty schoolboy before her gaze but her acceptance had been as warm and loving as in everything. In fact she had insisted that David privately dine with them on equal terms within the intimacy of the house and treated David with all the respect due to a beloved partner, something which had truly touched Richard deeply. He had never been more grateful for his sharp-eyed ally extending her protection and sharing their secret.

“Marvellous woman.” Agreed David. “She reminded me at times of my own mother.”

David had never been more grateful for Richard when his mother had passed away. Mercifully, the pox had not returned but a vicious winter had thrown grippe at the formidable Ellie Fleming and left her weak and fragile with a racking cough that left no quarter. Upon hearing this, Richard had immediately dispatched his own physician to the Rectory, along with a charwoman and maid of all work in his employ to take care of the house and - when the physician had found Ellie unlikely to recover with only days remaining - Richard had rented a house and sent the entire household off to the coast for a month for sea air, insisting that David accompany his mother and enjoy her remaining time. David had tried to protest, to argue that it was far too much, his devil’s pride rising and insisting on doing things himself for his own mother but Richard had overridden him firmly.

“My dearest, dearest bastard, I cannot give you diamonds, I cannot turn you into a Duke, I cannot even marry you but the one thing I can do - and will do - is give you time with your mother.” he cupped David’s cheek, swiping a thumb under David’s eye to catch at the threatening tears there. “This is a gift. A kindness from a friend and not to be repaid.” he had said, face serious, echoing David’s own words back to him.

And when his mother had peacefully passed a few days after their return - lasting far longer than anyone had thought - she had been surrounded by warmth and comfort and David had been by her side, holding her hand. It had been the greatest gift Richard had given him and his eyes stung hotly to think of it again.

“You are an extraordinary man, Lord Richard Vane.” David said softly.

“Only due to an extraordinary valet.” he responded. “I am only this way because I have had you by my side. Come closer to me, David.”

David moved himself up the bed so that sat beside Richard on the pillows. Richard managed to move so his head rested against David’s shoulder and their bodies were as close as they would ever be. They sat in the stillness with only their breathing breaking the silence

“Will you wait for me, Richard?” said David suddenly. Never a religious man beyond his expected observances, he was suddenly struck by thoughts of what was beyond the mortal plane. 

“I will. After all, Lord Richard Vane cannot be expected to go on to the afterlife without his valet by his side. It would be highly improper.” he squeezed David’s hand, still enclosed in his own.

They both shared smiles at that and settled down into the stillness of the evening. The dark indigo of the night sky threw a shard of darkness through the single chink in the drapes at the window but David could just make out a faint glimmer of a star through it, white and sparkling. Time itself seemed to be slowing in the bedchamber, leaving them in a single moment lit only by the gaslamp, which cast it’s own ghostly glow across the posts and bed curtains like a beacon for lost travellers. David felt the dull pain in his own heart and wondered how long Richard would need to wait for him. He himself had been becoming weaker over these last few months also and knew it probably wouldn’t be long for him either. 

“I am tired." said Richard softly, his voice now thin and ephemeral, he had closed his eyes. “My wonderful, beautiful David. My everything.” David felt the weight of Richard’s head move against his shoulder, becoming heavy. He counted Richard’s final gentle breaths until they began to fade, before disappearing into nothing and felt his vision glimmer. 

“Always, my lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> Notes
> 
> Grippe - Old term for influenza (the term influenza began to be used more in the 1890s which is just outside the timeline of this fic)


End file.
